Thomas reopens old wounds

Maybe Clarence Thomas, a sitting U.S. Supreme Court justice, wrote a memoir about his first 43 years because he needed the money. After all, he admits to grinding poverty before attending college and a penchant for overspending even after becoming a corporate lawyer.

But unless that's why he wrote My Grandfather's Son, it is difficult to figure out his motivation.

Maybe Thomas wanted to demonstrate to those growing up in dire circumstances, especially blacks, that education and influence are attainable. If his grandfather and grandmother had not agreed to raise him, he quite likely would have remained largely uneducated and poor in rural Georgia.

Maybe he wanted to preach to the body politic about the evils of school busing, affirmative action, abortion and other hot-button issues. Reading about the evolution of his views - sacred to millions of Americans and repugnant to millions more - is instructive. (The book ends with his placement on the court and omits debates among the nine justices and their law clerks since 1991.)

Still, Thomas had to know that this book would reopen controversies that arose after his nomination by Republican President George H.W. Bush to the Supreme Court. Thomas alternated between anger and depression as opponents of his confirmation attacked his character and truthfulness 16 years ago. He won the affirmation of 52 U.S. senators, just four more than those who voted against him.

Now that unsettling debate will occur again, this time in the chamber of public opinion. Thomas is assured of retaining his powerful position until he dies, and, at 59, he might remain on the court for 30 years or more. He is anything but assured, however, of improving his reputation because of what he writes in My Grandfather's Son.

Because I am one who believes the evidence suggests Thomas perjured himself before the U.S. Senate and the broader public 16 years ago, in fairness I feel compelled to give him the benefit of the doubt while reading every page of the book.

After 289 pages, I now admire his ability to admit mistakes in his personal and professional lives - his careless consumption of alcohol, his broken first marriage, his sometimes indifferent fathering of his son from that marriage, his penchant for jumping to conclusions about individuals and issues without adequate study and reflection. I admire his straight talk about the crucible of race in American society, as reflected in his own schooling before college, as an undergraduate at Holy Cross and at Yale University Law School.

I likewise admire his expressions of love for his wife, Virginia, the second woman he wed, and his openness in discussing interracial marriage, as well as his loyalty to John Danforth, former Republican Missouri attorney general and former U.S. senator, just as I am impressed by Danforth's loyalty to him.

But more than ever, I condemn Thomas for the way he responded in 1991 and in this book to fellow lawyer Anita Hill, his best-known accuser, and others who swore to the Senate or the larger public that Thomas can become abusive. They mentioned his fondness for X-rated movies and his use of government supervisory positions to sexually harass females.

In this book, Thomas is especially harsh on Hill, whom he says he considered an acquaintance benefiting from his generous job recommendations after she was his employee.

It is possible that Hill exaggerated or even lied about Thomas' conduct in 1991 to halt his ascension to the Supreme Court. It is possible other detractors with knowledge of his conduct toward Hill and themselves risked their reputations and even criminal charges by committing perjury, broadly defined. Possible - but, the evidence suggests, not likely.

Reading Supreme Discomfort and previous investigations of Thomas will almost certainly raise doubt about his truthfulness.